


Splinter from the headboard in my eye

by morphogenesis



Category: Zero Escape (Video Games), Zero Escape: Zero Time Dilemma - Fandom
Genre: Arson, Background Junepei, Background Phiria, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-10-03 21:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10259081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphogenesis/pseuds/morphogenesis
Summary: In one world, Carlos gets dragged into helping Aoi investigate a string of incendiary attacks on Crash Keys’ property, and stumbles across a larger mystery when he realizes he’s never meeting the same Aoi twice.In another world, Aoi just wants to stop constantly SHIFTing through time and space, protect his family, and resist falling for Carlos.These worlds intertwine and everything goes up in flames. A story told up, down, and sideways through time.





	1. Ritual

**Author's Note:**

  * For [upsidedownsudoku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/upsidedownsudoku/gifts).



> This one is for you, Shan: a Carloi WIP with a Fall Out Boy lyric title that I promise has a plot. ;) 
> 
> I may adjust the tags over time, but I will always add warnings before installments.

On Carlos’ 31st birthday, he woke to the sight of Aoi leaning against the headboard with his phone in one hand and a beer in the other. He wore his boxer briefs and Carlos’ shirt from last night with his hair finger-combed away from his face. He was so absorbed in his phone he jumped when Carlos pinched his thigh. “Morning.”

“Mm.” Aoi frowned at his phone and muttered in Japanese. He set his things on the nightstand and turned to Carlos, sitting with his legs crossed under him and leaning forward on his elbows. “Those two can’t do anything without my help,” he said with a smirk.

Carlos sat up—letting the blanket slide down and expose him in the process—and grabbed the back of Aoi’s head. When he went in for a kiss, Aoi gently pushed him away. “Your morning breath smells like vodka and ass.”

“Because you smell like roses right now,” Carlos teased. “Shower’s big enough for two people. Wanna join me?” Aoi hesitated just long enough for Carlos to peer around him and notice his bag on the floor, packed tight and neat by an experienced nomad. “When’s your flight?”

“Two,” Aoi said with a straight face. His phone vibrated behind him and he looked over his shoulder. “Hold on, it’s her.” While Aoi took the call, Carlos dressed, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and straightened up the room for check-out. The three big tasks: Stuff alcohol bottles in the trash, make the bed, and check for any errant used condoms on the floor. (That last one was mandatory ever since their first time in Vegas, when they remembered four hours after leaving the hotel that neither properly disposed of the one that’d fallen just short of the wastebasket. They laughed and joked about it like teenage boys. Aoi snorted when he laughed hard enough, and sometimes he smiled wide enough to reveal his crooked eyeteeth.)

“I didn’t say I had to rush,” Aoi said when he hung up and noticed the state of the room. He tossed his phone onto the taut bedspread, where it landed screen-up and showed his wallpaper was the same as it was six months ago: a selfie of Akane and Junpei with his mouth open and collar yanked down, like he’d been pulled into the frame at the last second. Carlos had the same one saved in a hidden app on his phone, where he hoarded the few pieces of evidence they gave him of their life. 

Aoi walked up to him and pulled him in by his shirtfront to kiss him hard on the mouth, pushing his tongue deep inside like he was trying to taste Carlos’ toothpaste. Carlos put his hands on Aoi’s lower back and held him close while they kissed, bit his bottom lip so hard he groaned. Before they pulled away, Carlos pecked him one more time for the road. “I have to get on the road soon anyway.”

“Gotcha.” Aoi pushed some hair behind his ear and looked hard at Carlos’ collarbone. “Happy birthday. Wanna put some room service on the tab before you go?”

Carlos smiled. “Something that’s ‘overpriced and tastes like shit?’”

“It’s all shit, but don’t complain about free food.”

“I’m only quoting you.” He grunted when Aoi shoulder-checked him before heading to the bathroom.

Aoi usually had an opinion on every dish, but he kept quiet while they sat cross-legged on the bed and picked at their last meal together. “Maria’s all good, right?” He listened to stories about Maria’s first year of college and how last week she’d finally told Carlos she was fine and he didn’t need to call every other day (initially bargained down from every single day). Aoi said Akane was well, Junpei too. Last night Akane texted him that they’d successfully put out their own kitchen fire as if that was a great achievement.

Carlos set his plate back on the tray and pressed his chin against his fist. “Until we meet again?” Never ‘When’s next time?’ or ‘Where are you headed?’ Instead of making plans, they always fell back on their unspoken promise: ‘I’ll come back as long as you don’t ask me to stay.’

Aoi scraped his fork across his plate and nodded. “Until we meet again.”


	2. Up the Spiral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're off! Thanks for reading and showing your appreciation for this fic. No major warnings for this chapter.

Aoi left the hotel room without looking back. Business tugged him forward like gravity’s pull, indifferent to desires. In his plan, he stayed with Carlos and made the most of time with a reservation for two, gambling, and testing the durability of the table in their hotel room. Now he settled for leaving a new watch and birthday card on the nightstand, and no promise he’d return.

Before he left HQ, he had a last strategy meeting with Akane and Junpei that ran way over time. Without their senior staff in the room, they didn’t have to worry about presenting a united front and indulged in arguments about courses of action. At the time, they debated whether to embark on a mission to find yet another base for Free the Soul holdouts who remained loyal after news of Brother’s death rippled through their network. _Death is a beginning_ , one potential leader proclaimed. _Brother is still with us._

“I think we’re onto something with the Dakotas,” Aoi said. “No reason to sit around.”

Junpei sighed. As Chief of Investigation, he’d be the one shipped off to the Dakotas to seek out the potential cult base. “I’m not going to the middle of nowhere alone.”

“Fine, go get Seven.” The detective took contracts with them according to his whims. “He’ll come if it’s you asking.”

Junpei shook his head. “After last time…” He threw up his hands. “I doubt it.” 

Aoi raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “Can you just try and stop—”

Akane put up a hand and cut their debate short. “We have better operatives for this.” 

“And the best ones are neck-deep in SOIS right now,” Aoi countered.

“Which I said was a waste of resources months ago,” Junpei said, and they were off to the races.

Akane sipped her drink and let them argue about strategy for a bit, before rapping her knuckles on the table. “Enough. Junpei, make a list of necessary people and materials and they’re yours.” When Junpei turned toward her, mouth open, she put a hand on his arm and met his eyes. After a moment, he nodded and stayed silent, although his hand flexed restlessly on the tabletop. She smiled, squeezed his arm, and then looked at Aoi. “Get some sleep. You have an early flight and you shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Aoi snorted, but knew firing back would prompt them both to double-team him about Carlos. When Akane and Junpei found out about their hookups, they both tried to lecture him about not “breaking Carlos’ heart.” Well, Akane spoke while Junpei stood behind her looking like he wished he were anywhere else and cut in with a few begrudging comments when Akane nudged him. It would’ve been cute if whose dick Aoi was sucking wasn’t the focus of conversation.  


Junpei yawned and scratched his nose. “I hope we find something worthwhile.”

“Hope’s got nothing to do with it,” Aoi said.

“You and those goddamn words…” Junpei muttered.

“Just _go to bed_ ,” Akane said with a pointed look, and put her hand over Junpei’s in a way that made an awful picture click in Aoi’s mind.

“I’m gone.” Aoi nearly ran out of the meeting room to avoid voyeurism. (There was a couch in HQ he refused to sit on after finding a pair of boxers wedged between the cushions. He knew she was an adult, but it was weird to search her bathroom cabinet for spare body wash and find a basket of condoms instead.)

This trip for Carlos’ birthday—precious time carved out of a schedule that consumed Aoi’s life but had to be worth it—was cut short because the Dakota mission started early and Akane called at 4AM to bring Aoi home to cover Junpei’s normal operations. Carlos stopped asking for details a long time ago; he didn’t even ask Aoi to stay while he opened the card before kissing goodbye. 

In the car, Aoi shifted gears and gunned it out of town. The quicker he left, the better for all involved.

* * *

One way he and Carlos first met was in the desert, at a retrieval point where only Akane was supposed to wait. After Akane threw herself into Aoi’s arms, exclaiming they did it, he looked over her shoulder. Two men watched them, looking at her with fond smiles. The ring on her left hand dug into his forearm. It was an end; it was a beginning. Their life was a cycle of them, a spiral, a whirlpool. It sucked in others and brought all four of them together under the Nevada sun in the last hours of 2028.

Aoi didn’t believe in hope, faith, love, luck—or fate. When he pressed his forehead against Akane’s in front of his future family, he thought _I believed in you_. So he trusted her when she introduced Carlos as her friend, someone she hoped he’d like.

They traded names and that was that. A beginning of many.

* * *

Another beginning:

Aoi woke in a metal frame bed, shivering awake because the blankets half-covered him. Looking around, he could tell he wasn’t in their safe house, but a sparsely furnished bedroom. He took several deep breaths, hand over his heart, trying to banish the paranoia that this was another confinement room. The door opened when he checked, and after looking up and down a foreign carpeted and white-walled hallway, crept out in his bare feet, sleepshirt, and baggy pajama pants. 

He followed the voices he heard—trusting his intuition that one of them was Akane from the gentle, persistent buzz her resonance left in his mind. But he felt two things wrong: two strangers. His head hurt from intruding presences and he moved faster, worried she was in danger.

When he burst into the room, he saw a sitting area that was too high-end to be anything they owned. All of their money went to the Second Nonary Game and Crash Keys overhead, plus swank apartments didn’t keep a low profile, so they still ate more instant food than not and thrifted furniture. But here were glass tabletops, white furniture, carefully color-accented knick-knacks, and three people: Akane and two men larger than her and too close to her. She didn’t look afraid. In fact, she was tittering and holding one's hand in greeting.

"Uh, hey Aoi. Interesting fashion statement there," said a brown-haired man whose hand lingered on Akane's lower back.

Akane looked at him and gasped. "We have a guest, be presentable. Go change." She shooed him with her hands and looked back at the other man—a tall blond.

Aoi blinked and said, "Who the hell are these people?" The words came out like they’d ground their way through gears in his throat. 

The man holding Akane rolled his eyes. "That joke's getting old—" 

"It's fine, " the blond man said. "I mean, _we've_ never properly met." He came over and offered his hand to shake, but Aoi scowled and stepped back, crossing his arms. "Sorry if I surprised you. I'm Carlos. You must be Aoi."

"And I'm still Junpei," the other man said with a mocking parade wave. "You sure you don't have any repressed regrets about blessing the engagement?"

Marriage?! "Akane, you can't even drink yet! Hell no you're not getting married!"

"I don't drink, but I'm 23." Akane approached and nudged Carlos aside. She felt Aoi's forehead, but he shook her off. He studied her, noting her hair had cut itself in one night and she was wearing clothes she didn't own (he would know, he did all her damn laundry). "...What year do you think it is?"

Something else was more important. "...23?" She made it to 23. He grabbed her shoulders, shook her, and grinned. "You're 23."

"And you didn't answer my question." But she was smiling. She grabbed his hands on her shoulders. "We made it."

* * *

Aoi fell asleep 22 and woke up 26.

Last night, he kissed Akane goodnight as she lay asleep on the couch, wearing his hoodie as pajamas with her thumb tucked through the hole in the right sleeve. She murmured as he kissed her forehead, trying to let her rest but wanting to check her temperature. He slept in the armchair and woke in a strange bed in a room devoid of the cluttered items, papers, and news articles praising Cradle's accomplishments that Akane wallpapered the space above her desk with. She stared at them sometimes, blank faced while scanning words she must've known by heart.

In the world he woke to, he'd grown his natural color out, he didn't have dark circles and eye bags, and he'd put on weight like he ate meals sitting at a table instead of standing at a desk. Looking in the mirror was a glimpse of the future. Akane said both plans had succeeded, the SHIFT phenomenon they'd only read about was real, and yes she was still getting married to this Junpei Tenmyouji because the Aoi of this timeline liked him.

Staring into his wardrobe, Aoi considered wearing his old hoodie for comfort and armor in a strange new situation, but after checking out the sweet new stuff he'd bought in the interim years he decked himself out in his finery and returned to the sitting room of a new safe house.

That Carlos guy sat on the couch alone, and though he waved at Aoi, Aoi didn't return it. The presence of two other people in their space was wrong. He wanted to take Akane aside and have her narrate the last years from the night he'd passed out until now. He wanted to savor every detail of their little victories and courage and her new happiness. He didn't want an audience. "Where's Akane?" He flopped onto the other, harder couch and grunted because he could feel his ass bruising from the force.

"She and Junpei went to get drinks." Carlos slid the foot he had been resting on his other knee to the floor and sat up straighter as if this were an interview. It emphasized his height and broad shoulders in a way that immediately piqued Aoi's interest. "It's been five minutes, so my guess is they're bickering over what to serve." He smiled fondly. "They're both really stubborn, but you know that—oh. Yeah."

"I don't, but thanks for pointing that out." Aoi rested both arms along the back of the sofa and imitated Carlos' earlier posture. "So why are you here?" Carlos was apparently her friend—and that always won a few points with Aoi—but what did a visiting firefighter have to do with Crash Keys' business?

Carlos averted his eyes and scratched behind his ear. "I'm...kind of a volunteer. They wanted to brief me in-person about the latest progress on the foxhunt."

The what? "Oh. Sure." He ran over every detail he and Akane planned for the next few years—should the Second Nonary Game and Dcom succeed, something he dreamed of like he’d dreamed of winning the lottery as a kid. They pledged to each other they’d dismantle Free the Soul, and at the time it was so far away he didn't think about what it might mean. Carlos didn't look like he'd be up for infiltration and manhunts, though. Sitting there in a pressed shirt and carefully-groomed hair with a friendly expression, he radiated some freakish normalcy that Aoi thought only existed on TV.

Carlos went on: "I've only heard about you, but Akane's said great things. You're really good at stocks, right?" He made eye contact with Aoi, broke it, and smiled to himself in the space of a moment.

"Sure, I play them." He nodded. "Made a mint once." Built an empire on that money, but he wasn't about to tell this guy that. He didn't elaborate, instead letting the conversation die into polite silence. The energy for tedious small talk drained out of him years ago. Carlos coughed and commented on the furniture.

Akane returned bearing tea and coffee and spared them. She handed one mug to Aoi before sitting next to him, playfully nudging him with her shoulder until he grunted and scooted over. He scrutinized the black coffee inside. "I don't drink this." Did getting older mean you automatically started drinking bitter stuff?

"Huh?" Akane said around the lip of her mug. "Oh fine, here." She grabbed his drink and shoved her own tea into his hand. He wiped the spot her lips had touched before sipping from the other side. "I think the surprise calls for a topic change." She nodded to Carlos. "I hope you understand."

"By all means."

Akane turned to face Aoi. She looked at him like he was a puzzle. "Did you really fall asleep and wake up here? You don't remember anything else?"

"Yeah. Tucked you into bed and then...squat."

Akane puffed her cheeks out. "You did not tuck me in." 

"Did so. You asked me to read you a bedtime story too—ow, damn it!" He swore as she pinched his earlobe and pulled.

"Stop teasing me." She yanked once more before letting go. "And you didn't know the events of the Second Nonary Game."

"Or the Decision Game," Carlos piped up. 

Akane nodded. "So I believe you're really my brother from 2025. But what triggered the SHIFT? I couldn't even do it at-will until the Decision Game."

"If I knew I'd jump to when this conversation was over."

"SHIFT."

"Whatever." Aoi gulped his drink and swore when he burned his mouth. "What if it's like you? I'm not actually in this body, I'm just experiencing this moment through the eyes of my older self."

Akane shook her head. "But you don't feel separate from his mind? I could differentiate myself from Junpei. I knew what was in front of me in the past."

"You two have lost me," Carlos said.

Junpei leaned on the couch behind Carlos. "That's what they're like." He smiled at Carlos. "Just think of it as another thing you haven't been told yet."

"Have you guys gotten around to writing me that primer yet, or—"

"Shut up." Aoi shrugged when Akane frowned at him. "I can't focus with these two yapping."

"Well they're not going anywhere, they should know this too." Akane set her full mug on the coffee table. "So we can't disprove your theory, but we can't prove it either."

"Hey Aoi, what happened in Singapore last spring?" Junpei looked like a pleased cat as he watched Aoi narrow his eyes and struggle to answer because he'd never been to Singapore. "You don't know? Then the other Aoi isn't here."

"I..." He shook his head. They'd read about SHIFT, they'd never done it. He knew the phenomenon had one commonality with their known power: Danger. What if his last memory wasn’t the last thing that actually happened? Had someone stormed their hiding spot? Was his Akane safe? At least he didn’t have to worry about whether another version of himself would protect her. He realized he was holding his breath and forced himself to exhale through his nose. “Nothing else happened.”

He could read Akane’s reactions from across a stadium: The corners of her mouth relaxed and she blinked slowly before picking up her mug and smoothly taking a drink, then sighing. She was relieved. “The last thing you did was stay up all night staring at blueprints,” she said quietly, for his ears only. She put her left hand on his arm. “Carlos, would you mind staying a bit longer? I want to spend some time with my brother.”

* * *

“C’mon, give me something!”

Akane shook her head. “I can’t tell you exactly what happened, it could change history.” She squeezed his knee with her free hand, while the other held her cards. “And then we might not be sitting here.”

Though unsatisfied, Aoi nodded. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“...How have you had perfect hands the past three games?” He raised an eyebrow as Akane coughed and shuffled her hand before shoving it back into the deck.

“I’m tired of cards,” she declared. “And my feelings are hurt you’d accuse me of cheating.”

Aoi returned his own cards and re-shuffled the deck. “You’re too old to whine about getting caught.” Card games killed time on long flights and nights waiting for associates in other timezones to get back to them on this or that logistical snafu. Now, they were relaxing after she’d kicked the other two out so Aoi could have undivided attention. He couldn’t stop studying her face: how had she changed so much between 19 and 23? She’d cut her hair, she didn’t wear the shiny purple lip gloss that made her look like a middle schooler, and when she’d gesture with her left hand that ring always surprised him. “Akane?”

“Yes?”

“You trust that Junpei guy, right?”

She smiled wider than he’d seen in years. “Yes, I care about him very much.” She hunched her shoulders and flushed like a schoolgirl. “He’s not always good at showing it, but he cares about me too. In the Decision Game, he always…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t risk it. I hope someday you’ll get to meet him properly and see who he is.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I trust Junpei with my whole life. I-I can’t wait to marry him.”

Her candid declarations embarrassed him. She wasn’t talking like a kid with a crush, but...a woman in love. It was like he’d found her porn stash or something. “Yeesh, PDA.”

“You asked!”

Aoi chuckled. “I didn’t ask you to write him a love letter, though.” He shook his head and stared at the deck he’d never set down. “But if you’re happy...that’s good. That’s real good.” Every day in his world, he worried she’d never be so happy. Did this Aoi ever worry about that? Did he have the time and energy to entertain mundane concerns like was the meat spoiled or did he forget to pack his favorite shirt, because he didn’t have to spend every neuron on whether Akane would live to be 23? It should’ve comforted him that there was an Aoi beside this Akane, but then again, somewhere out there was an Aoi who’d lost his sister too young. Aoi thought about that kid more than the potential man. He changed the subject: “You hungry?”

Of course he still cooked for her. Every meal, by the looks of it, because the kitchen was configured exactly the way he liked it back home: the griddle always on top of the stove (never jammed into the cabinet with the pans where it would get scratched to hell, Akane), the bottles of oils and condiments lined up according to how frequently he used them, and holy shit did he have a real knife set now? This Aoi was one lucky son of a bitch.

He admired how cleanly potatoes and meat sliced when cut with a sharp knife, so distracted by that that he didn’t realize Carlos walked in and made himself comfortable until he set something down on the counter beside Aoi: an aloe vera juice. Aoi startled and looked at Carlos. “Whoa, don’t sneak up on a guy holdin’ a knife.”

Carlos disarmingly put his hands up. “Sorry, it just didn’t seem right to let you toil away here while we’re hanging out.”

Aoi made a low dismissive sound in his throat and started chopping the meat like he had a grudge against it. “You’ll be in my way, go.”

“You sure?”

“Did I stutter?” He set the knife down with enough force to make him worry about the poor blade. He turned on Carlos, leaning back against the counter with more ease than he felt. “Are you going to be on me all night?” It was hard to ignore that this perfect stranger stared a hole into him when they were in the same room. One time he went to put his hand on Aoi’s shoulder when he was laughing at something Junpei said that Aoi didn’t get and his glare alone must’ve scared Carlos across the room.

“Uh, you’re right, you’re right.” Carlos coughed. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

Why did this guy annoy Aoi so much by existing? Scratch that, he knew: Carlos was trying too damn hard to be his buddy. Aoi turned back to his meal prep and thought that the unevenly-pieced food was Carlos’ fault. “Will you go already? You’re creeping me out.”

“Sure thing,” Carlos said, though he hesitated before finally walking out. Once he was gone, Aoi opened the drink and took a sip, cool and familiar. He was surprised he’d forgotten it in his rush to set up; he never cooked without drinking something.

Playing fifth wheel at dinner left him shoving food in his mouth so fast it burned his throat. He felt like he’d walked into someone else’s house and made himself comfortable. At one point, Junpei dropped the set-up for a joke he clearly expected Aoi to finish, and looked at him until blinking and going “Oh, yeah,” softly. He changed the subject and Akane and Carlos went along. Aoi felt like he’d jammed himself into his middle school wardrobe: familiar things fit wrong on him and everyone pretending he looked fine was more insulting than if they’d made fun of him.

After dinner, he feigned a headache and hid in the study. Akane had locked the computer up tight—none of their old passwords worked and no combination he could think of off the top of his head fit—and hidden anything else he could use to find information about the past. Did they think he was going to melt out of existence if he learned something? He did find old books they had back where he came from, his old handwriting faded in the margins, and new ones he’d written even more random shit in, in codes he didn’t know. Whole passages about religious fanaticism and circular logic in cults highlighted, and articles about deprogramming and case studies of domestic terrorist attacks stuffed into them.

It reminded him of when he was 16 and wrapping his brain around how to assemble bombs and how stocks worked, following a vague blueprint Akane laid out and feeling crazy for going along with it and crazy for ever considering not going along. Was he at peace with that in this world?

He was sitting on the floor playing a handheld he found hidden in a desk drawer when someone knocked. He assumed it was Akane and murmured assent before looking up to see Carlos. He had his arms folded defensively and gave him a weak smile. "Can we talk?"

"Busy."

"It won't take long." He looked like a dog begging for scraps at his feet. He cleared his throat before saying: "It's nice to see you again.” After a long moment of staring at Aoi, he exhaled. “I think I get it: this is the first time." His gaze was warm, fond. "Go figure, I find you again and it’s still not you.” When Aoi didn’t respond, he added, “Sorry, I know this makes no sense."

"Right about that. Did you hit your head? I'm not your friend." 

"Not in this world." Carlos shifted on his feet, shook his head. "There's so much I want to tell you, but sorry. I guess you'd forget anyway. If I never meet this you again: good luck." He sobered and lowered his arms, looking at Aoi with melancholy and appreciation simultaneously.

Aoi was one more cryptic statement away from jumping up and leaving this weirdo. "...The fuck are you talking about?"

"Someday you'll tell me." He nodded and tried to smile at him. "Until we meet again, Aoi," he said as he walked out.

“We won’t,” Aoi called to the closing door. He locked it, opening it only once to say goodnight to Akane, and slept on a strange couch.

* * *

Aoi woke because his blanket strangled him. He twisted in its grip, finally kicking it off where it’d gotten stuck between the seat and the arm of the chair and pulled it tight across his throat. He sprawled out, feeling like an idiot for ever feeling phantom hands on him, and stared at the ceiling. Akane snored on the couch, having somehow pulled his sweatshirt up over her face so only the top of her head poked out. The obnoxious wall clock ticked too loud for the time of night. His head hurt. His mouth was dry. He’d passed out with the lamp on and a picture of Hongou accepting an award for Cradle’s charitable work seemed to stare him down as he left for the kitchen.

His headache cleared up by the time he was done his glass of water, and he leaned on the kitchen counter, staring out the tiny window until he heard footsteps behind him and went to Akane like always. When she rubbed her eyes, he saw a glimmer on her left hand that faded as quickly as it came.

In 2027, this Aoi came to an end via a knife in his torso, knicking several vital organs and puncturing one. One person, but their paths diverged so severely he’d wonder what goddamn butterfly had flapped and doomed him if he’d had time to think as he died. Didn’t have time to think or worry about Akane or mourn that he couldn’t save himself or Clover, couldn’t be angry at the way Hongou sardonically smirked as he stood over them before striding away.

That smirk was the last thing he saw before his vision faded to a single narrow point, like an old CRT TV turning off, and blinked out entirely.

* * *

Take three:

Elsewhere, another Aoi cussed out the bathroom mirror after mouthwash bounced off the sink basin back into his eye. After rinsing it out, he appreciated the fact that now his right eye was red and half-closed, tearing up, and he still had toothpaste on his chin.

He was at least presentable when he felt a stranger enter their living space; Junpei and Akane were familiar in his head now, so another esper in the mix felt like a splinter under his nail.

“...Was the full pat-down necessary?” someone said from the living room. “You guys knew I was coming.” Junpei must’ve said something smart, because he grunted like Akane’d elbowed him. Aoi entered the room to this: a tall blond guy too close to them, with an arm around each of them in a hug, before Akane giggled and stepped back. “I missed you two.” So this was Carlos, the near-superhero in their minds.

She held both his hands while Junpei put his arm around her lower back, and the three of them seemed in their own world until Aoi knocked his fist against the doorframe. Carlos was the first to look at him, and their eyes met and Aoi swore he could feel the miosis: that sudden, severe constriction of the pupil brought on by epiphany. 

“And you must be Carlos,” he said, while Carlos looked at him with no recognition in his eyes.

Carlos approached him and offered a hand to shake. “Aoi, right? Nice to finally meet you.”

Aoi took his hand. “Hey.” 

Hey again.


	3. Fuel and Oxidizer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Arson/bombing, death by fire, and guns. (The real life examples Aoi and Carlos give are Oklahoma City and the lesser-known Kansas City Firefighters case.) 
> 
> On a happier note, please refer to the updated summary and character/ship tags as well! D beta'd the first draft of this and any mistakes remaining are mine. Thank you to everyone supporting this fic. <3
> 
> And: "Talitha cumi" really translates to something like "Little girl, get up," but I bent it for the sake of Junpei's bad joke.

"Where's Aoi?" Carlos couldn't hear him from inside the meeting room. 

"Sitting it out, I guess," Junpei muttered and Akane's hands fidgeted in her lap.

"It's fine, he knows all this anyway." She considered the papers scattered across the table and slid a map and a carefully organized bulleted list toward Carlos. "Did you review these?"

Carlos nodded but leaned forward on his elbows to scan it again. "Can't say I understood it all." It was like he'd arrived on the scene only to find the bystanders only spoke Greek. Junpei's translated notes, concise at first, devolved into Crash Keys’ jargon and his personal thoughts by the end. Junpei’s writing was as direct as his speech: _Abandoned site. Total waste of time. Pain in the ass._

The papers detailed the past year since the three of them had parted outside of Maria’s hospital room. The most concerning details were any mission that listed a casualty on Crash Keys' part. Free the Soul was spread farther around the world than Carlos had thought, clusters dotting almost every continent and a question mark over Antarctica, the only one unconfirmed. "You weren't lying about their scope. Do you have any idea where to go from here?"

Junpei waved him off. "We're just as lost as when we began." 

"Junpei—" Akane began, but he cut her off.

"It's an honest assessment.” Junpei didn’t seem happy about being right. He pulled a few more papers from the pile by his right hand and thrust them at Carlos. "It's like they're reading our minds before we make a move." Junpei rested his chin on his fist. For the first time, Carlos noticed a tougher, white, taut contracture scar consistent with a second degree burn on Junpei’s inner forearm. "But that guy's not a problem anymore." He pointedly avoided looking at Carlos when he said it. 

Junpei did the same after he’d gently pried the gun out of Carlos' hands, focusing on engaging the safety and keeping the muzzle aimed at the ground. Whatever he’d said hadn’t reached through the ringing in Carlos' ears. Carlos hadn’t bothered lying that he'd been forced to pull the trigger. 

Junpei pointed to Iceland. "We’re all over the place right now. Cicero is in Reykjavík."

"Who?" It was odd hearing codenames come out of Junpei’s mouth, a reminder that this was his and Akane’s daily life. They both looked tired, and for a moment Carlos wanted to take them to the beach like they’d all joked about after leaving Dcom.

"Just employees. Cicero works for me. She insisted she wanted to join Investigation instead of R&D," Junpei noted with a hint of pride.

Akane looked askance at him. "I remember it the other way around, but Junpei is right about the rest."

Carlos' face betrayed his curiosity and Akane and Junpei shook their heads at the same time. He swallowed his other questions. He couldn’t complain after he’d turned down their offer to join Crash Keys. "Looks like they aren't hurting for manpower?" 

Junpei sighed. "In ways we didn't expect, yeah." He pulled something from his pocket and handed it over. "They're just toying with us now. This was left for me at the last abandoned site." It was a calling card, black with a red symbol and font: _Talitha cumi. We will fight as long as it takes._

"’Talitha cumi?’"

"It's Aramaic for 'Arise, maiden," Akane said. "Only the tiniest bit insulting," she continued with a strained look in her eyes. Her hands were still but rigid on the table. 

"Well if it's meant for you it's inaccurate," Junpei joked with a self-satisfied tone, until Akane gave him a look with a smile that could split an iceberg in two, and he stared at the papers instead. "Uh, my point being you're very hard to kill. Yeah..."

"Suuure," Carlos said, impervious to Junpei's disgruntled glare. Carlos was a big brother; he couldn't help himself when he saw an opportunity to hassle his little brother.

"You guys done wasting time?" They turned as one and Aoi leaned against the door frame, looking like he was as interested in their horseplay as he would be in an infomercial. "I thought this was a briefing not a reunion."

"Oh, hush." Akane beckoned him over and he followed like she had him on a fishing line. 

"This is what happens when you show up late," Junpei added. 

"More like this is all you two accomplish when I'm not around," Aoi shot back with no derision in his voice, smirking when Junpei frowned for just a moment. "So, they tell you anything useful?" He leaned back in his chair facing Carlos but stared past his shoulder. Aoi had been aloof since this morning, and disappeared after talking to Akane briefly in the hall. Akane’s composure didn’t betray Aoi’s confidence, and Carlos could only guess what was on Aoi’s mind. Maybe he was shy and Junpei forgot to mention it. 

"It sounds like you're trying?" 

"No shit. I meant anything you can use for us."

"Don’t rush him, this is his first time." Akane cut in. "He's got someone else to think about. How is Maria?"

Finally, something where Carlos’ expertise surpassed theirs. "She’s great. Desperate to do everything under the sun. She graduated rehab and right now she’s begging me to teach her to drive."

"Do you still have her on a leash?" Junpei asked.

"No. She can do whatever she wants when the time's right," Carlos said. She still needed to take naps after a few hours of running errands. Why risk her going out and being too exhausted to get home, especially if he was at the firehouse?

"Mm-hm," Akane added skeptically, and Aoi suddenly grunted as she pinched his upper arm. He didn't dare retaliate when she smiled innocently at him. Carlos fell for that too from Maria.

"Anyway, point is we could use your help with something else too," Aoi said.

"How? You need a fire safety inspection?" In Carlos' opinion that's what they really needed. They didn't even have a Class B fire extinguisher in their kitchen! It only took one errant drop of oil to ignite the stovetop.

Aoi rolled his eyes. "No, on our wardrobes."

"What he means is we need your help with an arson case," Junpei said.

Carlos stopped drumming his fingers against his thigh. "...Tell me everything."

* * *

Carlos looked at the photographs of the burned out, gutted building in silence. The structure was a broken skeleton, a building in name only, and if they hadn’t told him it was a warehouse he wouldn’t have known from its blackened and ashen contents. He was no fire scientist, but after years of studying the subject on his own, working at his job, and briefly taking an arson investigation course, he hoped he could help Crash Keys. "This fire burned hot enough and long enough to incinerate almost everything." Carlos stroked his chin and muttered to himself, "Even the bodies."

Junpei coughed and Carlos looked at him to see Junpei’s mouth tighten and eyes narrow as he glared at the photos. Standing behind him, Aoi nudged Junpei’s shoulder, his own face blank. 

"Well. It looks like flashover happened for sure. That's when everything spontaneously ignites and the temperature can rise as much as 1000 degrees. That would be enough..." He paused and let his mind rotate like a waterwheel until it dredged up his next thought. "...If it helps, hydrogen cyanide probably knocked everyone unconscious before that happened. This definitely could've produced over 3,400ppm in a short time. All the synthetics."

"Sure," Junpei said flatly. "Only took half of Shipping with it and an entire warehouse. Impressive." Akane leaned closer to him and tilted her head up to whisper to him in Japanese. "Go on."

"No sign of blasting agents?"

"No, but there were broken windows and holes in the outer walls. The oxygen must've fed the fire." Aoi crossed his arms. "Did you pay attention?"

Carlos shook his head. "I don’t think that would’ve been enough on its own."

"Too bad the fire destroyed a lot of the evidence."

Carlos sighed. "Er, true. Sorry guys, I'm not much help huh? You'd think a firefighter would be better at this." His self-deprecating humor fell dead flat.

"...What was it, ammonium nitrate or whatever blew that one building to kingdom come?" Aoi asked. "The guy used fertilizer."

Carlos perked up. "And magnesium caused the Kansas City case. You like fire science?"

For the first time since meeting Carlos, Aoi seemed pleased by his attention. He polished his nails in a gesture befitting him. "Jack of all trades, if you will."

"Nice." Carlos smiled at him and Aoi's pride was replaced with scrutiny. He squinted for a second, examining Carlos' face, and then looked away. "Aoi's on to something. If I had an inventory list of everything in that warehouse before the fire, I might find something responsible for it."

Junpei spun one of the photographs in circles on the table. “It’ll take a minute—the most up to date list was, uh...blown up.”

“I’ve got time.”

* * *

Dinner with Akane and her family was nostalgic, but Carlos could only eat five bites despite being hungry enough to eat five plates. Aoi was a great cook, and more than once Aoi eyed him during dinner, seemingly scrutinizing why he wasn't showing his appreciation. 

Akane giggled. "So then Junpei..."

"Don't tell him this story." Junpei put his elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his palm. 

"Why not? Carlos hasn’t heard it." 

Aoi didn't offer input, just took large bites of his dinner without looking up.

"Now I think I have to hear this." Carlos smiled when Junpei glared at him. A long time ago, Carlos had been the victim of such lighthearted but embarrassing ribbing from his own family, while Maria giggled and encouraged Mom and Dad to tell more stories about dumb things he'd done before she was born. 

By the time Akane was done, Junpei looked like an exasperated teenager. "I didn't sound like that," he said, leaning away when she tried to pat his shoulder. 

Aoi either heard the story before or took pity on Junpei, because he didn't laugh but instead cleared the table and quietly disappeared to the kitchen. The other two didn't notice, caught up in their playful disagreement about what really happened that night, so Carlos went to help. 

Aoi worked on autopilot, moving with precision that suggested he had a system from years of picking up after others. He handwashed everything: plates scraped and rinsed clean before stacked by the sink, utensils first then big items like pots, things dried and put away immediately. He didn't answer Carlos' offer to help, though he paused a moment. When Carlos grabbed a dish towel, Aoi finally spoke: "Get out of my way." 

"You sure? Doesn't seem right—"

"You're here for them right? Go be with them." He jerked his head toward the doorway. Still wouldn't lift his head to look at Carlos.

"I'm here to meet you, too."

"Well, just to refresh you: we're all here to work." He finally turned to Carlos and took the dish towel from him. "You wanna be helpful, go review that report." Before Carlos left, he looked back and saw Aoi soak the dish towel in tap water and wring it out over the sink before pressing it, wadded up, to his temple. When Aoi opened his eyes, he stared Carlos down until he hurried back to Junpei and Akane in the sitting room, where another private moment awaited him. 

Junpei was hunched over papers spread all over the coffee table, frowning, and Akane rubbed his knee and murmured to him. He shook his head and gathered them into a pile with one hand, knocking some off. Carlos grabbed it before Junpei could, and Akane and Junpei both started as they realized he was there.

“Aoi takes a minute to warm up, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t mind him,” Akane said. “He’s upset about what happened, and he tends to take it out on the kitchen.” Dishes slammed in the kitchen, proving Akane's point. "Come watch TV." Their idea of relaxation was international news. Carlos had been hoping for game shows, then got his wish and watched Akane try to answer every trivia question alongside the contestants. At one point Junpei fell asleep, slumped back in the couch with his arms folded and chin to his chest, and Akane slid her hand under his arms and tickled him to wake him. He went to bed grumbling and dignity diminished.

When Carlos tried to sleep, he lay in bed for an hour wondering what his sister was doing, before wandering out to see if someone would take pity and lend him a phone since they'd taken his. Instead he found Aoi sitting in the dark watching television.

Aoi wore a ratty black hoodie and loose pajama pants, sitting hunched over with one leg underneath him and Akane asleep beside him. Fixated on the infomercials, he didn't acknowledge Carlos when he came closer. 

"Can't sleep?"

In the blue TV light, Aoi's hand rubbing her shoulder was clear as day. Akane mumbled but didn't wake. "No, I was waiting for her to pass out.”

"I see." Carlos sat on a creaky ottoman.

Aoi turned off the TV and left them sitting in the dark. Carlos was about to bid Aoi goodnight when he interrupted: "You killed Brother, right?"

Carlos pinched the inside of his forearm so hard the flesh went numb. "Yes." Not even Junpei said it so plainly. They were careful to avoid discussing it directly, period. 

The couch shifted as Aoi stood, and then came the soft rustling of him putting a blanket over Akane. "Thanks."

Thanks? Murder was worthy of praise now? Even today Carlos wasn't sure why he'd acted without a moment's pause. "...No offense, but it's not something I really like to talk about."

"Mm. No offense, but you're talking to the wrong guy if you're expecting kid gloves."

"You started this."

"Whatever, fair warning." Aoi passed Carlos and stopped at the doorway. "They say you're a good guy. If you wanna stay one, you should probably leave this to us." He left, leaving Carlos in his wake with a dozen more questions about a perfect stranger.

* * *

_Come on, you know this._ Carlos traced his finger over the blueprint before him, following a 2D hallway to a larger warehouse, and then a small garage toward the back. "I think the answer is magnesium. Looking at the make and model of the vehicles, you had a room full of blasting agents right here." He tilted his head and pointed to a corner of the garage. "The problem is this exterior door doesn't open from the outside, so if that's where they started the fire, someone would've had to walk through the main room to get there." He resisted the urge to tell them this was what happened when nobody thought to keep a Class D extinguisher on hand. 

"Who suggested that again?" Aoi said with a pointed look at Junpei. 

Carlos held up a hand. "It's not about blame after the fact. Junpei, who would've had access to the building besides Shipping?"

Junpei touched the paper entrance and considered the question. "Security. The three of us." After a pause he shrugged and admitted, "Some members of Investigation."

"Like?"

Junpei didn't answer. 

"The last registered swipe is from a warehouse worker," Akane said. "And all of the cameras started looping footage at 4:15am, so if anyone entered after that we wouldn't know." She looked at the blueprint sadly. “Unfortunately everyone inside passed away, so they can’t tell us more.”

Carlos pondered this while a phone went off in the other room and Junpei hurried to answer it. "Who from Investigation could get into the building?"

Aoi held up three fingers. "Including Junpei, three of them could access it. One was in the hospital that night, and Junpei swears it can’t be the other."

"And do you think that's true?"

"No," Aoi said, "But try telling him that.”

In the next room, Junpei said "What?!" and all three turned toward the sound of his voice. "I'm recalling you. Report back immediately." A pause. "Yes you will if you want your job." A louder but muffled voice on the other line. Junpei returned and shoved the phone into Akane's hand, ushering her down the hall to their meeting room. Carlos went to follow, so used to taking their problems as his own, but Aoi stepped between him and the door and stared him down. 

"This isn't your problem."

Junpei and Akane were though. "I could help."

"Doubt it." Aoi tilted his chin down. "Didn't I tell you? You want to be their hero, fine, but some shit just ain't your business."

Junpei returned, no phone in hand. "I'm going to Iceland," he said bluntly. "Where's your credit card?"

Aoi patted his pockets and then caught himself, looking to Junpei. "Well what the fuck happened?"

Junpei looked at Carlos for a second then shook his head. Carlos put a hand on his shoulder and urged, "You can tell me."

"No. This is our business."

_Why invite me then?_ "Anything I can do?"

"Go home." Junpei softened after that blunt proclamation. "It's better you get out now. Sorry, we'll bring you in another time."

"... Call me if you need more help with this case." Carlos put his hand out, palm facing the floor, and Junpei put his over Carlos' in a cherished gesture of their friendship.

Akane returned and looked cross. She gave Junpei his phone and muttered something to him.

"Yes I do," he retorted. "I'll be back, but..." He scoffed. "Why is she so stubborn?"

"Because she's Phi." Akane noticed Carlos then and waved apologetically. "Aoi will take you back."

"What?" Aoi said. Akane raised an eyebrow at him that allowed no argument. "I have work here, you know." 

"Junpei can't do it and I need to stay here." She gave Aoi doe eyes with years of practice behind them. "And we trust you with Carlos."

"But...oh...fuck's sake," Aoi grumbled, but an hour later they found themselves in a car. Carlos moved with every bump in the road beneath them, but he couldn't gauge their surroundings through the blindfold. Maybe they were still in the desert he'd been told to leave his car in.

Carlos tried to stretch his legs and bumped into the dashboard. "Thanks."

"Sure." The ride was silent, dragging on with no concept of time passing, until Aoi said, "Don't take it personally."

"Huh?"

"All of this." Aoi didn't explain further. When he dropped Carlos off at his car, Aoi offered him a business card. "If you need us just call and leave a message." 

Last time Crash Keys left him, Akane and Junpei had asked for his number and said they’d call when they could, and nine months later he’d checked his phone after work to a static-filled voicemail where they kept cutting each other off and it ran until they exhausted the time. It’d taken another three months for them to get to the point and ask him to visit. This card was an improvement. “Sure. Thanks.” When Carlos went to get back into his car, Aoi called out to him:

“Hey.” Aoi stood with his hand on top of his open car door, fingers tapping along it gingerly like he feared errant magnesium. He paused and his hand stilled. 

“Yes?” Carlos and he looked at each other across the short distance between their vehicles. Making eye contact with Aoi, Carlos felt the urge to say anything other than goodbye. Logically, he knew he couldn’t expect to see Aoi anytime soon, but the thought that if he didn’t say something he’d never see Aoi again hung over him. An intrusive and inexplicable thought but one that still made his jaw tighten with anxiety. 

“See you soon.” Aoi opened his mouth as if to say more, then shook his head and got back in his car, driving off quickly.

Carlos did the same, and left behind the disappointment that he’d missed a chance his subconscious urged him to take. It hadn’t faded by the time he got to the nearest rest stop. Rest stops were a point of unreality, where one had to emerge from the enclosed world of their car and enter a loud, bright place with too many people. Starving, he wandered through it to buy a slice of lukewarm pizza from a chain inside and ate it in the car while on speaker with Maria.

“Did you tell them I said hi?” she said. Mundanity. Welcomed back to the world of the living.

* * *

Nobody returned his messages. The number was a phone directory for an industrial construction supply business, and pressing 0 led nowhere. There was only an extension for a general voicemail. Carlos left successive messages over the next few months: 

"Hi, it's me. I was thinking about that scene and..." 

"How are you doing?" 

"Do you think we could meet sometime?" 

Then it was July and nobody had called or written. 

"How are they?" Maria asked him without looking up from her GED prep book. She lay on her stomach on the living room floor, playing with the end of her braid while she followed the sentences with her finger, mouthing the vocabulary words.

"I'm sure they're fine." Carlos' laundry folding sped up, growing sloppier until the tower of shirts fell over. Maria grabbed one and tossed it back to him, and he snatched it out of the air. "You know, you look well enough to learn how to iron clothes."

Maria groaned and planted her face in the book. "I'm tiiiiired, I've been studying soooo hard, Carlos."

"We'll see." Carlos flipped her over, knelt down, and hoisted her up and over his shoulders in a classic fireman’s carry. 

"Carlos!" She beat her free fist against his ribs and he chuckled and circled the room, carrying her until she squirmed out of his grip and dropped, landing on her feet shakily. She shoved his shoulder but couldn't move him, and her indignant expression made him cover a grin. 

"Woke you up? Good, get the ironing board." Every day held good, mundane surprises now—until the phone rang late that night. 

"What's your definition of an emergency?" Aoi sounded wide awake by the grace of pounds of coffee, amphetamines, or both. "It took me an hour to clear the inbox."

"Is everything okay?" 

"Awesome," Aoi said. "Listen, I just have a few questions for you that we can’t talk about over the phone. I'll be in the area this weekend and I know you've got off. Come meet me." He said it like a teacher announcing nobody was leaving the room until the exact moment the bell rang.

"Wait, what—"

"Their request, bud."

Aoi had him. He wrote down an address Aoi gave him and said, "Gotcha. See you guys there?"

"Sure." Aoi hung up before he finished exhaling. Carlos looked around his room, unmade bed and old movies and toiletries scattered across the top of his dresser. How did he plan for this when he had no idea what they needed now? 

Maria protested when he said he had a last minute trip. "When do I get to come?" she said before stuffing her mouth with a gargantuan forkful of dry, under seasoned spaghetti she'd made with such pride that Carlos had no choice but to eat it. "At least let me stay here by myself."

"It'll be boring." 

Maria chewed her mouthful with exaggerated bites, said “Next time I’m coming,” and was grumpy the rest of the evening.

His car sputtered ominously on the way to the diner. "Come on now," he muttered, patting the dashboard in a decade-old ritual. His parents bought it for him when he was 17 and it was a beater then. It was also yet another reason for his sister to delay getting her license for a bit longer. 

He felt a small jolt of disappointment when the only one waiting for him at a booth near the door was Aoi, playing with his phone again and sipping from a mug with the other. A handful of sugar packets were scattered by his elbow. "Yo."

"Where are—" Carlos fell quiet when Aoi surreptitiously held a finger to his lips before hiding the action with a cough. Carlos sat down before he could say anything else wrong, and Aoi set his phone on the table and slid it toward Carlos. A bunch of cartoony, colorful stickers including a fire engine, a rabbit, and stars and bubble hearts filled the screen in a message that screamed Akane. Carlos laughed. "I say 'Hi,' too," he said, and Aoi took the phone back and swiped at the screen before setting it facedown.

"Anyway." Aoi's eyes lidded and he shook his head, forcing them back open. "You were right about blasting agents."

"And the suspect?"

"We got a few people." Despite his flagging energy, he only ordered toast and eggs when the waitress came by. Carlos tried to politely follow suit but Aoi waved him off and told him to get what he wanted, prompting a back and forth between them (“I’m not cheap, get more than that,”) until Carlos gave up and ordered more food than he even planned on eating.

"So what do you need from me?”

"If you could pull Junpei's head out of his ass that'd be nice. Akane says you're good at it." Aoi drained his mug and spun it on the table, staring at it as if it would refill on its own.

"What's wrong with Junpei?"

"He's gone off the rails with this. A few months ago, someone under him was caught up in a different firebomb and he's abandoned everything else to investigate. Akane’s letting him."

"And?"

"We don't have that kind of time." He jabbed the inside of his mug with a coffee stirrer. "There have been a couple of other fires since the warehouse, and they're getting closer to home," he admitted. "We need you to do something for us."

Carlos leaned in; it was hard not to get sucked into the antsy, unfocused energy emanating off of Aoi, especially since it sounded like Junpei and Akane needed Carlos. "What?"

"I need an unbiased person to interview one of the suspects. I don't think Junpei was the best guy to do it because she worked for him, and same goes for the rest of Investigation."

Carlos hesitated. “That would be majorly stepping on Junpei’s toes.”

Aoi painstakingly tore open another sugar packet and poured it into his empty mug, and then added another. “He wasn’t happy when I said that, but he’ll get over it.” Aoi stopped playing with the sugar long enough to make eye contact with Carlos. A bruise-colored blot was under his right eye yet the left looked normal, like he’d rubbed away concealer without realizing. “He knows work is more important than his ego. And he told me he trusts your opinion.”

Carlos weighed his options. He wasn’t a trained detective, and he barely knew Aoi. He wondered why he was Aoi’s first choice, friend of Junpei’s or not. On the other hand, he did promise he’d do what he could for Crash Keys, and he swore to himself he’d always be there for Junpei and Akane. 

Sometimes, Carlos rationalized, being there for your family meant doing something that would piss them off, right? "So what happens if I do it?"

"Then I owe you a kiss." Aoi let that settle and didn’t smirk or elaborate on his joke. When their food arrived, Aoi stared at the plate presented to him, sniffed, and pushed it toward Carlos. "Have this.” 

Carlos looked over the fruit salad, oatmeal, pancakes, bacon and eggs, home fries, and jam and toast on his side of the table, shook his head, and pushed away Aoi’s plate. He also gave Aoi the fruit for good measure. Before tucking in, Aoi took the grapes out one by one with his untouched fork and put them on a napkin he then pushed Carlos to take. 

Carlos didn’t split food with anyone, but grapes were his favorite fruit. He ate them and chewed slowly, feeling awkward that he didn’t have much to say to Aoi. He watched Aoi cut his eggs into smaller and smaller chunks with the edge of his fork, do the same to his toast, and then take sluggish bites.

Carlos picked his way through the meal, his decision changing with every cut, bite, and swallow. He made up his mind halfway through the pancakes. “I can do it. Where is she?"

"Right now? I hope you're up for a road trip."


End file.
